


Let's just drive

by wittchingswriting



Series: Mintyficweek [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Road Trips, Roadtrip, as per usual, mentions of drug use, miller is completely smitten with monty, mintyficweek, monty being protective over his food, roadtrip au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:15:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4132098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittchingswriting/pseuds/wittchingswriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miller picks up Monty when he's heading across the country and is soon is very soon very smitten with the wonderful force of nature that is Monty Green. </p><p>Day 6 of Mintyficweek</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's just drive

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably the longest (and most angsty) fic I've ever written, so let me know if you liked it, your comments give me life! 
> 
> also if you want to listen to the song Monty loves so much you can find it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCHREyE5GzQ)

Miller first saw the boy when he pulled into the gas station, standing at the edge of the road, a duffle bag at his feet, peering down the high way that stretched infinitely across the countryside, only a few cars passing by occasionally. 

He had been driving for three hours now, this was his first stop since he left New York. He filled up his tank, bought some water and snacks and stepped outside the cool, air conditioned shop into the slowly building heat of the late morning hours. The man was still standing there, looking a little lost. 

Miller watched him as he stowed away his food and drink. He didn’t seem to be waiting for someone, he was just looking up and down the road with a concentrated face, like he debating something with himself. He was also kind of cute. Miller pulled out of the station, but he couldn’t bring himself to just drive past the guy, so he stopped beside him and let down a window. 

“You okay there?”, he asked. The boy looked surprised and hesitated, like weighing his options. 

“Actually I am not quite sure”, he finally answered. Miller looked at the boy a little closer and saw that he had deep shadows under his eyes and looked incredibly sad and exhausted. 

Before he even knew he asked: “Do you need a ride?” 

He met the boys perplexed expression and realised how creepy that sounded, asking him instead of the other way around. “Uh..”, the guy made a face. 

“I’m sorry, never mind, that was super creepy, I’m sorry”, Miller stuttered, turning red. 

“No actually…”, the guy interrupted, still looking doubtful but he seemed to be making up his mind: “that would be great”. Miller blinked, “okay”, he said slowly, nodding, while at the same time he wanted to give the guy a piece of his mind for accepting a stranger’s offer for a ride so quickly, that was not safe! 

But then the man smiled and Miller forgot what he was thinking and got out of the car to stow the man’s heavily packed bag in the back of his Chevy. The guy slipped onto the passenger seat and smiled again. 

“Thank you”, was the first thing he said when Miller got back into the car. 

Well shit, he was even cuter close up. Miller watched him push back his dark raven hair from his face, a very handsome face with incredible cheekbones and lips so well defined it made it had for Miller to concentrate on anything else. But his eyes were warm brown and bright, matching the smile that was still on his lips. 

“Yeah no problem”, Miller answered, “I’m Miller”. He wondered if extending a hand would make him even creepier, but the guy shook it. 

“I’m Monty, Monty Green”. Miller smiled, the name was fitting. 

“So where are you headed Monty Green”, he asked. Monty’s face dropped again and he shifted away his gaze. He cleared his throat, “um actually just West..” Miller nodded, obviously the guy didn’t want to talk about it, so he wouldn’t pry.

“I’m heading for St. Louis for direction, is that okay for you?”, he simply explained and Monty looked at him disbelievingly. 

“St Louis is perfect”, he said and looked so relieved that Miller couldn’t help but smile. 

“I’m heading home to my family for spring break”, he explained, telling him something personal stuff was probably reassuring. 

“You live in New York?”, Monty wanted to know and explained quickly at Miller’s surprised look: “It’s on your plate”. Miller nodded and finally started the car and pulled out onto the high way, speeding up a little at a steady pace. “Do you go to college there?”, Monty asked and when Miller glanced at him he looked curious. 

“Yeah I am a photography major actually”, he confided. “Really? that is so cool”, he sounded enthusiastic. 

“My dad certainly thinks otherwise”, he replied dryly and shrugged at Monty’s questioning face, “it’s not really a very promising path”. 

“Well that depends just on how good you are, doesn’t it”. Monty’s answer took him by surprise and he chuckled, “yeah I suppose it does”. He sneaked another look at the passenger who seemed very pleased, sitting back in the seat and resting his head back. 

“Thank you so much though, seriously, for taking me”, he said after a little while, sounding sincere. “Of course”, Miller replied softly. He wondered what it was that had this boy look so exhausted. 

But he didn’t ask and after a while the boy’s breathing became even and deep and when he looked at him again he was fast asleep, his face that had been marked with worry even through the smiles was relaxed and open and looked so peaceful, as if nothing in the world could ever disturb him.

 

After about an hour Monty stirred beside him. Outside rich green fields were flying by and the electric blue sky was spotted with little fluffy clouds. Miller sent him a look. Monty grinned, “oh god that was so needed thank you”, he sighed happily. 

“No problem”, Miller answered, “so I’ve been thinking: you’re not on the run from the cops are you? Because as much as I’m up for aiding and abetting a criminal I’d like to know beforehand”. Monty breathed a laugh, his eyes sparkling. 

“No, not on the run..”, he hesitated and specified, “…from cops”. Miller eyed him, intrigued. Monty’s face had grown a little more serious. He looked like he was considering saying something but Miller didn’t want to push, and when Monty changed the subject he went with it. 

“How were you planning on driving by the way, it’s a 16 hours drive to St. Louis”, Monty asked. “I was actually planning on staying at some motel”, Miller answered. 

“Could have just taken a plane”, Monty suggested further, but Miller shrugged, “I like driving”, he stated simply. 

“Alright then”, Monty just commented with a nod and leaned forward to switch on the radio. Miller was fascinated by how interacting with Monty already felt so familiar after only a few hours and barely any talking. 

The music that came from the speakers surprised Miller even more, it was a classical program, Miller even knew the song, Swan Lake. Monty smiled and then quickly asked: “Do you mind?” Miller shook his head, too intrigued by his unusual choice of music. 

The theme floated eerily through the car and Monty sighed deeply, growing more relaxed by the second as he took in the music with closed eyes. His head bobbed slightly and he could see his fingers twitching when the violins started their motif and it had Miller wonder if Monty was a musician. 

Judging by his slender fingers he could very well be a violinist and Miller swallowed and had to look away to keep himself from imagining these fingers from doing other, very different things that had nothing to do with music. 

When the music built up in a big crescendo Monty closed his eyes and his head moved with the music, emphatically. Miller grinned to himself, Monty was so entranced in the music he didn’t seem to notice anything else, it was like he was living in the music, as a part of it. 

Miller had never listened to classical music, not because he didn’t like it, but he simply had no idea where to start, feeling like he was lacking the required knowledge to fully comprehend it, but he enjoyed watching Monty bloom up with every note. 

He didn’t seem to mind Miller watching him either and continued to move along to the music, his head, feet or hands always in motion. He even started conducting in small movements when Vivaldi’s Summer came on. Miller felt himself growing more and more fond of the other boy by the second, which he knew was crazy because he’d only just met him, but there was something about him that made it possible not to be fascinated by him. 

“Oh oh oh”, Monty exclaimed excitedly when the next song came on, “this is my favourite”, and he turned up the volume. 

“What is it”, Miller asked, unable to stop grinning at Monty’s enthusiasm. “Beethoven’s 7th”, Monty replied eagerly, “it’s one of the best pieces in existence”. Miller listened to the slow gradual build up, the motif jumping from the bass instruments to the violins and up. 

Monty beside him had his eyes closed and was weaving his hands through the air in a way that showed that he knew every note of the song. He wondered what had happened to this boy, what had him running, a boy who so clearly appreciated life and liked to live it. 

Monty opened his eyes and met his gaze and for a moment Miller saw a great hurt in his eyes, a hole, an emptiness and he held his breath, just before the music changed to a slightly happier pace and he broke the intense stare to look back at the road. 

When the song was over Monty turned off the radio again, explaining: “the next thing will only sound weak in comparison”. Miller smiled and Monty smiled too and for a while none of them said a word, watching the country go by. 

“Tell me something about yourself”, Monty said after a while. Miller didn’t think for a second that it was a strange question for a hitchhiker to ask the driver. 

“Well”, he started”, “I grew up in Chicago. My Dad’s a police officer. My mum passed away a few years back, cancer”, he didn’t look at Monty and was grateful when he didn’t move to say anything or assure him his condolences. 

“My Dad wanted me to go to the academy like he did, but it didn’t feel right. I used to play baseball in school. And when I decided to go to New York and major in photography my Dad got pretty mad”. 

He had never told anyone so much about himself, not even during his last two years of college. He didn’t even know why he felt so compelled to tell Monty such personal stuff about him, maybe it was the security of never seeing him again after this trip, or just generally the intimate air the other boy gave off, but talking to him felt just right somehow. 

Monty was listening intently, his eyes on his face. After a while and to Miller’s great surprise he started talking. 

“I studied… I study music in Baltimore… my parents are from Portland, but we moved east when I was ten”. Miller didn’t dare to look at him, taking in all the information he got. “I used to make a drink called Moonshine, it was wicked, the hardest stuff in my town”. 

Miller had a hard time imagining Monty cooking up illegal substances in a garage. “I.. Jasper and I made it together…”, he broke off and Miller knew this Jasper guy was the reason for the defeated look on his face and he wanted very hard to punch that the guy in the face. Again the car was silent as they drove past the border to Ohio. 

It was long past midday, a look at the dashboard of the car told him it was almost two o’clock and he decided is was time for a break. They pulled over at a diner in a small town with a name that Miller forgot again the second the sign was out of sight. 

They got a booth next to the door and a bouncy waitress came to take their order, coffee, some lasagne for Miller and a huge plate of potato waffles for Monty who seemed more than pleased when the dish arrived, digging in greedily and with a speed that had Miller staring. 

“Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re a food-sharer”, Monty asked with a dramatic look when he felt Millers eyes on him and Miller noticed how he must come off. He just snorted shook his head finally starting his own lasagne, which was surprisingly okay for diner food, “no worries”. 

They talked about small towns and living in them and what influence it had on a person and Miller found it was incredibly easy to talk to Monty Green, much easier than it was talking to other students his age. 

They stayed at the diner longer than necessary, treating themselves to a seriously rich chocolate cake afterwards (the cake was actually called seriously rich chocolate cake and Miller tried to convince himself that he wasn’t reveling in the way Monty’s face lit up when he read the name on the menu), talking about everything and nothing. 

When they left and made their way to the car Monty proposed: “You know I can drive for a while if you want”. Miller agreed gladly, after driving for what had been five hours straight and slipped onto the passenger seat after getting his book from the back of the car. 

Monty tried to read the back of the book and Miller held up so he could have a better look. “Oh I’ve heard about that”, he remarked, “I’ve been meaning to read it, is it any good?” Miller shrugged, “just started it actually”. 

They started driving. Miller shrugged off his hoodie when the sun blazing down through the windshield got almost insufferable even with air-conditioning. He saw Monty sneak a glance at him while he did so and tried to read not too much into it. 

He relaxed back into his seat and started reading. After a few minutes, he was obviously doing something embarrassing because he noticed Monty trying not to laugh. “What”, he asked. 

“You read to yourself”, Monty answered, his grin becoming more obvious. 

“What?” 

“You mutter to yourself when you read”, Monty explained, very amused. “I do not”, Miller replied indignantly, surely he would notice if he was doing so. Monty just turned back to the road, still smiling. 

Miller tried hard to focus back on the book. Pressing his lips together Miller read the next paragraph and groaned embarrassed when he heard a light laugh to his side and really he caught his lips moving along with the words now that it had been pointed out to him. 

“Why don’t you read to me”, Monty suggested. 

Miller didn’t know if he was joking or not, but he shrugged nonchalantly, playing it off and started reading out loud, just to hear Monty laugh again at first. But at some point he just went on, and Monty had grown quiet and Miller found reading out loud was actually kind of comforting. 

Monty listened intently, eyes on the road whenever Miller glanced up, his mouth quirking up at every joke. He read until his voice became scratchy and his mouth dry and he had to drink something. 

Monty was quiet. Miller thought that this would be a good opportunity. “What’s in St. Louis”, he asked, carefully. 

Monty sighed, “a friend”, he replied. He looked like he wanted to say more and Miller waited patiently. 

“I kind of… fucked up… at home”, Monty explained, staring ahead, “and I… needed to get out for a while”. 

Miller didn’t say anything, it was just what he’d figured. Monty looked at him and Miller held his gaze with a sincere expression, and Monty just took a deep breath and looked back at the street.

 

They decided to look for a motel when they had been driving for another few hours and the sun started to climb slowly down the sky in front of them. 

Miller had fallen asleep for a little while and then he and Monty had switched seats again. They were halfway through Ohio and they decided to go for one of the roadside motels along the motorway, because a) it was easier to just get in the car and drive on the next morning and b) Miller liked the slightly eerie air they gave off, the feeling that he was part of some bad sixties horror movie. 

They found two passably clean and simple rooms to a reasonable price and after they had gotten their bags from the trunk of the car they checked in. The plump middle-aged lady behind the counter eyed them a little suspiciously when Miller instinctively took Mont’s bag from him just because he liked how cute and flustered Monty got when he did it. 

They got some food in the tiny restaurant and Miller realised just how very strange this whole situation was, that he was sitting here with a guy he’d only met this morning, talking about his views on politics and bad television and whatever else, feeling so utterly relaxed. 

Even after they’d finished their food they stayed, talking, and for the first time Miller thought about maybe asking Monty for his phone number tomorrow, about the possibility of staying in touch, meeting up again even, and it made his heart beat excitedly. 

They ascended the stairs to their rooms and came to a stop where the corridor parted for them. 

“Well..”, Miller shifted his weight awkwardly and looked at the boy in front of him. The haunted, lost expression that had marked his face had faded and he was smiling, a little sheepish, his cheeks growing red in the dim light of the corridor. 

“Goodnight”, Monty said and Miller nodded. “At seven tomorrow?”, he repeated what they had agreed on at the table. Monty nodded, “seven”, he echoed. They both didn’t know what else to say, holding each other’s gaze for a few more seconds, before Monty reached out and touched Miller’s arm just above the elbow. 

“Thank you Miller”, he then said, looking at him intensely and Miller felt his heartbeat speed up. 

“Of course Monty, there’s nothing to thank me for”, he answered when he found his voice again, sounding a little breathless to his great embarrassment. Monty just smiled. Then he turned around and unlocked the door to his room. 

Before he disappeared into the room he shot him one last smile over his shoulder that had Miller staring at the door after it had closed behind him. 

Well fuck, he thought and then he too, entered his room and went to bed.

 

The next morning it seemed almost unreal thinking about Monty in the next room. Miller wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing until he saw him entering the dining room wearing a fresh blue t-shirt with his hair still damp from a shower. He looked better, rested and fresh and when he spotted Miller at the table, he greeted him with that bright smile Miller still wasn’t used to. 

He tried hard not to think about how cute Monty looked and how much he’d like to see him like this more often. 

“So, how far do we still have to go”, Monty asked as he sat down opposite of him, referring to the roadmap spread out in front if Miller. 

“We have about seven more hours to go”, he answered him, pointing to a spot on the paper, “so if we leave at eight we could be there at say four to five”. 

Monty beamed but there was something hesitant in his smile and Miller wondered if Monty actually had any idea what to do when he arrived. 

“Did you tell your friend you’re coming?”, he asked him. 

Monty nodded, “yeah I called her yesterday. Clarke’s an artist, so she travels around a lot, but luckily I caught her at a time when she’s at home. She lives in Belleville”, he explained and suddenly looked uncomfortable, but before he could say anything further Miller assured: “I’ll drive you there”. 

“Are you sure”, Monty asked, “I really wouldn’t want you making a detour for me”. Miller smiled, “it’s not a problem, it’s like thirty minutes longer to drive, don’t worry”. 

Monty looked relieved and he smiled at Miller a little incredulously. Miller met his gaze and smiled, holding the eye contact for way too long than was acceptable, but he didn’t care. 

“So you do this often?”, Monty asked. Miller looked at him questioningly. “Pick up sad boys at the side of the road like some hot guardian angel?” 

Miller cocked an eyebrow at this and couldn’t hide the stupid smirk that spread across this face. “Hot guardian angel?”, he repeated shrugging, “I can live with that”. 

Monty laughed silently and Miller would never admit the excited jolts his stomach had decided to start doing. 

Their whole breakfast turned into a meal of flirty remarks and glances after that and it was the best breakfast Miller had ever had.

 

They departed from the motel, Miller driving, Monty continuing to read aloud from the book they had now both become quite invested in. Miller liked the sound of Monty’s voice, melodic and soft, even though he preferred himself reading it to him, and the hours flew by way too fast. 

At one point Monty fell asleep, looking like an angel snuggled up into the seat, his feet in socks pulled up against his chest after he’d gotten rid of his shoes. Miller was certain he had never seen a more adorable sight than this almost-stranger fast asleep on his passenger seat. 

He turned on the radio, humming along to the songs and sneaking occasional glances at his passenger because he couldn’t help himself. The day wasn’t as warm as the last, the sun shining brightly but not burning like it had yesterday. 

Miller let down his window and let the fingers of his left hand play and dance in the air. He didn’t even fully notice he was singing until he felt Monty’s gaze on him who was grinning furiously at Miller knowing every single word to Blake Space and singing them full-throatedly. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed, he was in such a good mood. 

“Your favourite?”, Monty asked teasingly. 

Miller only shrugged, “hey don’t diss T-Swift”, he joked (no he didn’t, he meant it) and Monty laughed, a bright, happy, unashamed laugh that Miller just stared at him in wonder. 

“What?”, the boy asked and Miller averted his gaze. They were quiet for a while, only Taylor Swift singing about her list of ex-lovers in the background. Miller felt Monty’s eyes on him again when he asked: “What is your first name Miller?” 

Miller was a little taken aback by this question, his first name wasn’t usually something he gave willingly or was asked for very often. He looked at Monty, trying to figure him out, who was sizing him up with a very similar expression. 

“Nathan”, he then said and Monty smiled.

 

After another two hours of driving they stopped at a gas station, Miller bought some Snacks and Drinks for the road and they drove on. Just as they crossed the border to Indiana Monty’s phone rang.

“Clarke?”, he answered right away, “yeah hi, I’m in the car, we just passed into Indiana”. Miller could hear the other voice at the end of the line distantly. 

“No, still with um.. that guy I told you about yesterday, Miller”, Monty explained, shooting him a quick look. “No I’m actually getting dropped off”, again Monty smiled, and then turned a little pink, making Miller curious about what the girl at the end of the line had to say. “I… yes”, he only stuttered, and then all of a sudden his face dropped. 

He grew very still and seemed to retreat into himself at what this Clarke girl was saying. He nodded curtly and took a shaky breath. “Yeah, yeah I am”, he answered, quietly. 

Miller tried not to look too concerned but he felt the uneasiness take hold of him. 

“Thanks Clarke, you too”, Monty hung up and stowed the phone away in the compartment in front of him. Miller didn’t dare to ask and Monty didn’t speak up. He just turned the radio on with a jerky movement and focused his gaze on the countryside outside. 

The haunted look was back on his face and Miller didn’t even want to begin to think about what could have this force of nature and positivity that he had come to know as Monty Green look so small and defeated.

 

Monty had been very silent for the past hour, staring out at the scenery flying by. Miller didn’t see it coming, but when Monty started talking he knew what he was about say. 

His voice was quiet, reserved, when he told him. 

About his best friend, the brother he had had through all of elementary and high school, about the unbreakable bond the two of them had had. About Moonshine and nights at the Dropship, an old abandoned cottage where the two and their friends had met up. He told him about his decision to study music and Jasper’s to study chemistry and how the two of them had decided to move to Baltimore together and about their apartment. 

He told him about Maya, about Jasper’s undying love for her and about Jobi Nuts. Not actual nuts but apparently the name of a new synthetic designer drug that had spread across their campus last year. Jobi Nuts were an extremely dangerous hallucinogenic, and Jasper, as a chemistry major, had started to get more and more mixed up with them. 

In the beginning Monty had tolerated Jasper’s little stunts with the drugs, but when his drug use became more frequent, regular with time Monty had spoken up, tried to get him off them, hiding the supplies he found in their apartment. 

Jasper had gotten raging mad when he found out about Monty’s involvement, he had told him to mind his own business, to get a life of his own and stop meddling with his. And Monty did back off, for a while. 

When Maya got sick Monty was the first to suspect the drug. Jasper of course didn’t listen, tried to put it off as nothing. 

Shortly before everything went down Jasper and Monty had had a conversation about the future. Jasper told Monty that he wanted to go to Portland to work at a internationally successful pharma-company and how Monty had gotten really mad, because back in high school days they had made a vow never to be a part of any big capitalist Mogul-company, to use their abilities in the best way they could. 

Monty had felt disappointed and betrayed. 

He paused for a while, breathing hard, trying to figure out how to tell the rest of the story. Miller was scared of what he would say next. 

“Then Maya died”, for the first time Monty’s voice quivered slightly. From what he had understood Monty and Maya had been quite good friends even besides her being his best friend’s girlfriend. “And I went to the police”. 

Miller looked at Monty who looked completely beaten. 

“I didn’t sell out Jasper of course, I just told them what I knew about the drugs. It was too late for Maya but I couldn’t just keep quiet any longer. They retraced Jasper without me”. Monty swallowed thickly. 

“He didn’t get arrested but he got a mark on his record, and obviously his big company won’t take him on now”. 

“And he hates me”, he added with a broken voice, so quietly that Miller almost didn’t catch it, “he hates me so much”. 

Miller felt his heart ache for the boy. A thousand thoughts were swirling through his head, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t dare to look at the boy beside him but he reached out and took Monty’s hand and held it tightly, Monty shaking silently. 

Once again Miller was deeply impressed Monty Green, by his strength to bear this weight that Miller was sure would have crushed most other people. 

He looked down at their entwined fingers resting on the armrest between their seats, feeling strangely responsible, involved. 

They drove on like this, while the sun rose higher and higher and the day proceeded. 

 

The previous morning Miller had set out on a 15 hour drive home to visit his dad for spring break and he had picked up a boy at a gas station. 

The boy had turned out to be one of the most interesting, intriguing and inexplicable people Miller had ever encountered and if there was one thing he knew for certain it was that he couldn’t just let Monty disappear from his life again. 

He knew he had to say something at some point, but he had no idea how to address the subject without coming off as a total creep. 

The silence wore heavier between them. 

They had read a little more from his book and talked even more. It seemed so strange how comfortable he felt around this guy after such little time, how familiar Monty felt to him. 

They ate some lunch at a diner again. Monty ordered pancakes and Miller leaned over into Monty and tried to catch some of them with his fork just to see Monty’s reaction, instinctively pulling the plate out of Miller’s reach and making a warning sound until he saw Miller’s grin and he hit him on the arm, laughing at himself. 

They sat on the same side of the booth, a little closer than necessary, their shoulders brushing occasionally. When it was time to go they both felt a sense of finality and tried to play it off by joking around. 

It was just after four o’clock when they passed into the county, the surroundings growing more and more familiar. 

“Will you be okay”, Miller asked at some point and they knew he wasn’t just talking about arriving at Belleville. Monty shrugged and smiled, “I guess so”, he just said. 

Miller glanced at him, “you know you can always stay with us if your friend has to travel again”. He wanted take the words back as soon as they left his mouth, he really had to stop saying things that made him sound like a total creep. 

“You don’t even know me”, Monty replied, eyes glinting, “didn’t your Dad not tell you not to let strangers in your house?”. 

“You like T.C. Boyle books, Beethoven’s 7th and you are fiercely protective over your waffles”, Miller said lightly, “that’s all I need to know”. 

Monty contemplated him with a look, like he was trying to figure him out and Miller blushed a little, feeling that maybe he had said too much. 

But Monty’s smile was genuine and said otherwise and it made Miller ridiculously giddy . 

They arrived at Belleville after another forty minutes. They had both grown rather quiet, just the occasional comment on where to lead him to Clarke’s by Monty. 

Miller’s heart beat heavily in his chest when he pulled up in front of a displaced looking old house with a wild unattained garden and a weathered looking staircase leading up to the door. 

He switched off the car and they just sat there in the resounding silence. 

“I don’t know what to say…”, Monty finally stated. Miller looked at him. “I… thank you, Nathan, thank you so much for this”. 

The familiar way Monty used his first name made his chest feel tight. 

“No, don’t thank me, it was… really nice”, Miller retorted, “I really enjoyed the company”. He rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly. Monty smiled. His eyes darted towards the house and Miller saw a young blonde woman step outside the door wrapped up in a thick cardigan. 

“I’d better go”, Monty said. Miller wanted to say something, at least ask him for his number but he felt too awkward, didn’t know how to say it, so he just nodded. 

Monty leaned forward and hugged him a little hesitantly, but he could feel his fists digging into the back of his shirt. His arm slung around Monty’s waist for a second and then Monty was gone again, out of reach and he pushed his black hair out of his forehead and laughed a breathy laugh. 

Miller nodded and said: “take care of yourself Monty”. 

Monty nodded and sent him one last bright smile, then he grabbed his phone and jacket and exited the car. Miller heard him get his bag out of the back of the car and then he saw him walking up the driveway with the strap slung over his lean shoulder. 

He watched him hug Clarke tightly and then started the car and pulled out of the driveway, the tightness in his chest increasing with every meter he left between him and Monty Green. 

He shook his head, trying to pull himself together, he didn’t even know the guy, punching the radio on with more force than necessary. 

For the second time in two days Miller heard the soft sound of celli and bass playing the slow march-like melody, violins coming in shortly afterwards and he saw again Monty’s delighted face when this song had come on yesterday, his hands dancing to the rhythm, twitching with every note and Miller realised what an idiot he was being. 

He stopped and turned around.

Just as he was driving back down the street towards the house he saw Monty, running down the sidewalk towards him and Miller felt a massive grin spread over his face.

He stopped right next to him and got out of the car to stand in front of him on the sidewalk. 

“Wait”, Monty panted needlessly, out of breath. 

“Here”, he held out a piece of paper and Miller’s heart sped up when he saw the number scribbled on it. 

“Call me”, Monty told him, searching his eyes. 

Miller nodded, “I will”, he replied, “definitely”. 

He could have sworn he heard angels singing in the distance when Monty gifted him with the most wonderful radiant smile. 

“Great”, the man just said and quickly, before Miller knew what was happening he had leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. 

Miller knew he was probably looking ridiculous right now, grinning like a lunatic, but he didn’t care. 

“I’ll call you”, he said again, like an idiot. 

“I’m counting on it”, Monty replied, laughing. 

Then Miller got back into the car and drove off, not looking back, the piece paper burning in his pocket.


End file.
